


perManence

by 8ucky8arnes



Series: fragMents [4]
Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ucky8arnes/pseuds/8ucky8arnes
Summary: He didn’t look up. “How’s Lauren?”She glanced at his bloody knuckles, “Caitlyn was looking at her last I saw…and you?”He shook his head. “I’m fine.”She snorted, “Because punching things until you bleed istotallynormal behavior.”





	perManence

Clarice watched from the doorway of one of the medical examination rooms as John gently laid down the still unconscious Lauren on the bed, stepping back with a forlorn expression as Caitlyn set about checking her vitals.

She reached out as he walked past, fingers catching at his sleeve, “John…”

He shrugged her off, shouldering past Marcos as he rounded the corner.

Clarice couldn’t help the pain the slashed at her chest as she dropped her hand. She wanted to follow him, to check on him before he lashed out at the nearest surface with his fists, but a small part of her held her back. A part that told her this was her fault…

“Hey,” Marcos put a warm hand on her shoulder, “You doing okay?”

“I’m not the one you should be asking.”

He looked in the direction John had gone, eyes somber, “Clarice…”

“I stopped him from going after Lorna.” She remembered pleading with him, when everything erupted into total bloodshed and chaos, remembered his anguished scream and the _alright_ said through gritted teeth. “She was right there and…”

“You did the right thing, Clarice. Those mutants were killing each other and…” he squeezed her shoulder, looking over at Lauren with such a guilty expression. “After seeing Andy hurt Lauren so badly, I wouldn’t have wanted to see John forced to go up against Lorna.”

Clarice shuddered at the thought, recalling the shotgun buckshot embedded in his skin and both the _metal_ weapons he’d had in his hands. _Would Lorna have used those against him? Thrown them hard enough to pierce his skin?_ She shook her head, not liking that train of thought either, “Do you think she would’ve actually…?”

He ran a hand down his face, “I thought I knew, but…I don’t recognize her anymore.”

Her heart clenched, wondering if John and the Struckers had come to the same realization today. She’d been frustrated with the whole lot since they’d charged into Graph’s place and John had gotten shot. She’d seen the desperation drive everyone into a plan that was no doubt doomed from the start and could only watch in horror as everything fell apart.

She wrapped him in a tight hug, “I’m sorry, Marcos.”

He returned the embrace, pulling back after a long moment, “Go find John.”

She nodded, “Update me on Lauren?”

Marcos nodded, “I will.”

She searched the entire clinic, asking anyone if they’d seen him. She tried to ignore the worry gnawing at her the longer she looked without success and the feeling that he was intentionally avoiding her as her search extended past the clinic and into surrounding alleyways.

Clarice paused as something hit a nearby dumpster.

On any other day, she might’ve ignored it but Clarice examined the small pieces of rock and brick on the lid anyways, a chill going through her when her fingers came back red. She whipped her head back to look at where they’d fallen from. _John…_

Sparing only a moment to glance for passersby, she opened a portal to the roof of the building and jumped through. She immediately spotted John, his back against the ledge he’d just been striking, head bowed and forearms resting on drawn up knees. “John?”

He didn’t look up. “How’s Lauren?”

She glanced at his bloody knuckles, “Caitlyn was looking at her last I saw…and you?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

She snorted, “Because punching things until you bleed is _totally_ normal behavior.”

Narrowed eyes looked up through a curtain of hair.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. This is the _second_ time you’ve decided hitting things was better than talking to someone… _anyone_ about what’s going on.” She tore a hand through her hair as she turned away from him, tears burning her eyes. “I can’t just stand by and watch you hurt yourself. It _scares_ me to see you in pain, John. Can you _see_ that?”

She nearly jumped when his fingers encircled her wrist.

“Look at me, please.”

Clarice looked down at their hands first: his split knuckles and her chipped nails, sliding her fingers through his and squeezing. She lifted her face up to meet his, leaning into his touch as a thumb brushed away her tears. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, I…”

John sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “No. I…I should be the one apologizing.”

She looked up into those fathomless brown eyes, so full of guilt and pain.

“I do see it, Clarice…every time.” His hand slid down her neck, palm resting on her chest as his eyes slipped closed. “I can still hear your heart racing when those shots sounded, your shaking hands when the doctor pulled the buckshot out of me, the tremor in your voice when you spoke to me the basement…”

She wet her lips, “Then _why_? Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Because my anger is destructive, Clarice, and I don’t want you getting caught in the crosshairs.” He stepped away from her, expression pained as he flexed his battered hands, “If I ever hurt you when I got like that…I would never forgive myself.”

“You could never hurt me like that, John. _Never._ You know why? _”_ She strode up to him, taking his face in her hands and frowning when he stared at the ground. Clarice tightened her grip, knowing the pressure would ground him, “Look at me, John. _Really_ look at me. Do you know why?”

His lifted his gaze.

“Because you’re not capable of it.”

Shadows darkened his eyes, “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I do actually. I know you’re a fighter. A soldier. I know that you’ve probably had to do… _things_ because of it and it killed a part of you to do them.” She didn’t flinch at the warning in that stare and her fingers dug deeper when his jaw clenched, “Your mutation gave you the ability to meet almost anything or anyone head-on, to hunt them down so they couldn’t get away…”

He looked moments from stepping back.

“But you don’t because if given the opportunity, you’ve always tried to talk to others, to understand their motivations before throwing a punch because despite what you think, hurting those without cause has never been in your nature.”

“How can you still see the best of me?” He murmured, his expression one of tenderness and love and disbelief as fingers gently traced the lines of her face like he was afraid she’d shatter. “Even after all that’s happened?”

She grinned, “I guess I’m just stubborn.”

A small smile curled his lips, “That you are.”

Her hands wound around his neck as she returned the gesture, “I learned from the best.”

He drew her into a long kiss, hands falling to her waist as hers tangled in his hair.

In that moment, Clarice could almost forget that everything was going wrong, her world fading until there was only John and his warm embrace. Even as he pulled away, she held onto him and she noticed him doing the same when she rested her head against his chest and his cheek pressed into her temple.

They were each other’s touchstones, a grounding point when everything else was spinning out of control and she wanted to hold onto him with everything she was because if they started putting distance between each other now, she wasn’t sure she’d recover from that.

Neither of them would.


End file.
